


it's just your foolish pride

by fits_in_frames



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, POV Second Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-01-06
Updated: 2008-01-06
Packaged: 2018-01-21 17:15:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1558028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fits_in_frames/pseuds/fits_in_frames
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes, the past catches up with you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	it's just your foolish pride

**Author's Note:**

> _what'll you do when you get lonely_  
>  _and nobody's waiting by your side?_  
>  _you've been running and hiding much too long_  
>  _you know it's just your foolish pride_  
>  {derek and the dominos // layla}  
> 
> 
> Written for [](http://wildcatlizzie.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://wildcatlizzie.livejournal.com/)**wildcatlizzie**.

It's getting late and that guy who's been eyeing you all night (and who's pretty much gorgeous) finally says something to the man he's with that makes him leave. He straddles the jukebox, sliding in quarters and pushing buttons with purpose. A song you vaguely recognize pours out of the speakers, and then he sidles up next to you at the bar, waggling his eyebrows at you lewdly when you glance over. You roll your eyes and go back to your friends, but he just keeps smiling, and you're having a hard time not looking at him, because _damn_ , that's a prize-winning smile.

"You're a beautiful woman," he says in a low, rough voice.

You ignore the heat creeping up your neck until he puts a hand on your shoulder and leans over so his breath brushes against your ear.

"I'll be in the bathroom." And then he gets up to leave.

Five minutes later, you drain your glass and excuse yourself, you have to freshen up. He's waiting in the unisex bathroom, leather jacket discarded somewhere. He's looking out the half-open door, grinning like a jackal and it only makes him more attractive, if that's even possible.

Ten minutes after that, he's got you pinned to the wall, sucking on your neck, his rough hand up under your shirt, one leg between yours, and then you hear Eric Clapton singing ( _got me on my knees layla_ ), and he shudders against you as if he's pushing back some stray thought. And suddenly, when he moves his mouth to meet yours (harsh and teasing all at once), you realize you're going to go back out there and face your friends with his smell on your clothes, and you don't care, not at all.


End file.
